


Stay of Execution

by CongratulationsBaby



Series: Australia's Prize Catch [11]
Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27689776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CongratulationsBaby/pseuds/CongratulationsBaby
Summary: Set after 'Mobilizing' in same A/U where Franky is a contestant of a reality TV show and Bridget is the Production Assistant assigned to her.Bridget finds Bea to deliver a message, whilst Franky faces elimination. Franky and Bridget get a moment alone.
Relationships: Franky Doyle/Bridget Westfall
Series: Australia's Prize Catch [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832278
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	Stay of Execution

**Author's Note:**

> A/N
> 
> 2 chapters of Hearts and an APC oneshot for the series in ONE week, helllllll yeahhhhhhhhhh <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy this installment, it's set after 'Mobilizing' and is rated 'T' for general swearing and a bit of a make-out session.
> 
> There is a line in here borrowed from the beautiful new Battlestar Galacticta (2003) series - cannot recommend that show enough but anyway... line borrowed! 
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Wentworth or any of the characters, you know, the usual 'don't sue me' content.

**Stay of Execution**

Bridget rang the doorbell and hopped from foot to foot as she waited impatiently.

It was a nice house, red brick and in a very homely and quaint suburb outside the city. If Bridget hadn’t inherited her very spacious bungalow from her parents when they passed away, she thought that she might have chosen a similar abode.

She wondered if Franky would like her bungalow as much as she did. From their few conversations and her first ever audition interview, Bridget knew that Franky didn’t exactly live a life of luxury. Holding down a full-time job as an assistant chef in a restaurant hardly covered her rent and bills, and Franky had no opportunity to move due to the ever-increasing rent prices. Bridget thought Franky might like her bungalow a lot more than her studio apartment. She hoped so anyway.

_Don’t get ahead of yourself,_ Bridget scolded herself as she examined the neat flowerbeds in front of her. As she leaned closer, she heard the door creak open slowly, still secured by a chain.

A young girl, maybe mid-teens, peeked out at her from the crack in the door. Bridget immediately recognised her as Debbie, Bea’s daughter. Though Bea was a very private person on the show, she was extremely proud of Debbie and often took the time to divulge anecdotes to Bridget where she could.

“Who are you?” Debbie narrowed her eyes, suspicious.

“G’day,” Bridget responded kindly, “I’m Bridget Westfall. Is Bea Smith in?”

“Depends,” Debbie replied.

“On?” Bridget asked, prompting her.

“How do you know my mum?”

“I worked with her on _Australia’s Prize Catch._ ”

“You’re not winning me over, Ms. Westfall.”

Bridget bit back a smile at the retort.

“I’m here to deliver a message.”

“From Allie?” Debbie’s eyes suddenly lit up, excitement now warring with her wariness.

“Yep,” Bridget nodded, and Debbie suddenly scrambled for the chain, pushing the door closed and unhooking it, before pulling the door fully open.

“C’mon in,” Debbie waved Bridget in and shut the door behind them, moving quickly down the carpeted hall, “mum will be so happy! She’s been miserable since all that shit- I mean, _rubbish_ was splashed over the papers and magazines.”

Bridget moved toward the living room as she heard Debbie running upstairs and calling out:

“Mum! There’s a Ms. Westfall here to see you! Something about Allie! You gotta go downstairs!”

Before Bridget even had a chance to examine the many knick-knacks on the mantelpiece in the living room, Bea appeared in the room, slightly winded.

“Ms. Westfall- I mean, Bridget,” Bea smiled, “it’s so good to see you.”

“Bea,” Bridget replied warmly as she moved toward the woman, pulling her into an unaccustomed hug. Startled, Bea took a moment to recover and then returned the embrace.

“Debs said you wanted to talk about Allie?” Bea asked tentatively as they broke the hug, and Bridget saw that the woman looked a little gaunt and a lot more tired since she last saw her in the mansion.

“Yes, I was asked to give you a message,” Bridget slid her hand in her jacket pocket and pulled out a neatly folded envelope, still sealed shut with Bea’s name written hurriedly on the front.

Bea took the envelope gently, just staring at it as her breath quickened.

“It’s from Allie,” Bridget said unnecessarily, hoping to push Bea from her thoughts.

“Yeah I… I don’t want it,” Bea replied, pushing it back towards Bridget’s hands, “I saw the tabloids. I know what this is.”

“Bea…”

“I-it’s okay, really,” Bea shook her head, “it’s not like we made any real promises to each other.”

Bridget sighed. That answered the question of whether Bea had read the papers.

“I spoke to Franky.”

Bea flinched at the name and Bridget saw a flash of jealousy.

“Of course you did,” Bea replied, “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask… I guess you’re pretty cut up about it all too? I mean you and Franky were… well, I thought I…”

Bea paused, just staring at the wall as she contemplated how to finish her sentence.

“Bea?” Bridget gently encouraged, “you thought…?”

“I thought I loved her,” Bea whispered.

“If you think you love her then you love her,” Bridget said firmly, “that’s what love is; thoughts.”

Bea’s lips turned up, the ghost of a smile.

“Doesn’t matter,” Bea shook her head, her smile dropping, “she’s got Franky now.”

“Bea,” Bridget pushed the envelope back into Bea’s hands, “there is _nothing_ going on between Franky and Allie. I trust Franky, I trust the strength of our love and I trust that she’d never lie to me. Perhaps you should put your trust in Allie?”

Bea gently caressed the envelope, her fingers trailing over her name, written by Allie.

“Read the letter,” Bridget said, “that’s all Allie asks… read the letter.”

Bea gripped it tighter and looked up, resolutely.

“You want a drink?”

“Thanks,” Bridget smiled, “but I’ve got an elimination to get to.”

****

_“And the next contestant to exit Australia’s Prize Catch is…”_

Franky sat ramrod straight, one hand curled tight into a fist while the other was being squeezed tightly by a nervous Allie. Kaz and Will sat on the opposite couch, looking a lot more relaxed as they were not up for elimination themselves, but still anxious.

Kim was sat leaning forward in a chair, her elbows resting on her thighs, once again staring blankly. This time, however, Franky thought she detected a sense of peace, surrender, emanating from her. She remembered that Bridget mentioned a new Hot Seat interview where Kim came clean. Maybe Kim had finally made peace with her decisions.

_Fat lot of fuckin’ good it’ll do me if Gidge and Vera didn’t come through,_ Franky thought desperately, _they only had a few days to turn the tide of public opinion. Not even Kim’s confessions could knock the Freak’s plan that far off course…_

_“Kim!”_

Franky felt a rush of _something,_ a ringing in her ears that muted everything around her. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath, waves of relief crashing into her. For just one second she forgot the cameras trained on her, and a name rolled off of her tongue, like a prayer.

“Gidge.”

Bridget had pulled through, her efforts had paid off. Franky briefly wondered what the tabloids now said about her. She had been put on trial by public opinion; was she now exonerated in their eyes? Or would she forever be fighting an uphill battle?

_“Kim, grab your bags, kiss your sweethearts, and say your goodbyes! We’ll see you shortly!”_

Kim stood up quickly, looking over at Franky. Franky saw her eyes flicker with regret, disappointment, and… _relief?_ Kim moved closer, wringing her hands in front of her as she took a breath.

“Franky,” Kim started, “I don’t expect you to forgive me, not after everything I’ve done. But I’m sorry anyway. Honestly. I’m just glad I realised that in time… and I’m happy to be going, really. I’m sorry.”

“Little bit late,” Allie called out venomously from her seat beside Franky. She was still stinging at the thought of losing Bea because of this mess.

Kim faltered at Allie’s words, and Franky watched her carefully.

“We’ll never be friends,” Franky said and Kim nodded in understanding, her shoulders dropping, “but I’m glad you chose to do the right thing. Takes a lotta courage, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kim’s lips quirked, a small smile, “I’m glad you’re still in here… your- err, Ms. Westfall is a force to be reckoned with really.”

Franky grinned.

“She really is.”

“C-can you,” Kim looked nervous, “can you tell her thank you? From me? When you get a chance…”

Franky nodded and, in a split-second decision, pulled Kim into a firm hug. She felt Kim’s arms wrap tentatively around her and after a few beats they both pulled back.

They’d never be friends, but Franky wished Kim the best.

****

10pm on the dot and Franky hit the water, her body cutting through it with precision. She enjoyed being in the water; it was like the whole world was muted so long as she was submerged. She could think clearly underwater and thus it became a nightly ritual. Sometimes she thought of her father leaving her, and sometimes she thought of her mother and the burn of the cigarettes. Other times she thought of Bridget, of their first desperate kiss, and lately of their night together and the promises they had made since.

When she was under too long, feeling the desperate burn in her lungs and throat, Franky propelled herself upwards, hearing the water crash around her as she dragged in the fresh air greedily, coughing as she did so. As she wiped the water from her face with her hands, she heard a voice;

“This seems familiar.”

Franky’s heart lifted and she smiled brightly at Bridget, who was leaning against one of the pillars just watching her.

“And yet _still_ no skinny dipping,” Franky splashed some water and grinned cheekily, “even when I’ve seen it all.”

Bridget let out a huff of laughter and stepped toward the edge of the pool.

“As much as I am _overjoyed_ to see you,” Franky started, casually kicking her legs to keep her afloat, “aren’t you going to be in trouble for being here? Why are you here?”

“I was waiting in the live audience for the elimination,” Bridget responded as her eyes flickered over Franky’s body, “just in case the plan fell through.”

“So you were here to greet me on my exit,” Franky’s tongue ran over her teeth as she looked Bridget up and down, quite enjoying the view herself “were you holding a sign? I hope you were holding a sign. Did you plan on a big public pash in front of all of the cameras?”

“Is that what you want?”

“For the whole world to see that I’ve got a hot girl that I’m crazy for?” Franky pondered it for a split second, “I mean, there are worse ways to announce that _Australia’s Prize Catch_ has been caught.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Bridget responded warmly, “I don’t have long. Ferguson isn’t here today but if Fletch catches me out here…”

“Then we best hurry,” Franky surged forward in the swimming pool and pulled herself up over the edge. Water fell from her body and, unlike their first time by the pool, it was Bridget who this time grabbed Franky’s hand and pulled her backwards insistently toward the pillars.

“Now this _definitely_ seems familiar,” Franky smiled, placing her hands on Bridget’s hips and pulling her flush against her soaked body.

“Don’t tease,” Bridget sighed and wrapped her arms around Franky’s neck, pulling her head down and capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Franky moaned, startled, as she felt Bridget’s tongue skate across her lips and demand entry. Franky granted access and met Bridget stroke for stroke, battling for control of the kiss even as she felt Bridget’s hands sweep over her shoulders and down her body. She let out a ragged sigh when she felt Bridget’s hand brush against her over the bikini bottoms. Just as Bridget’s fingers pushed aside the fabric and found their target, a voice called out:

“Franky, you still out here?”

Fletch’s voice shattered their heated moment and Bridget’s hand quickly darted back as Franky nudged her up against the pillar, making sure that Fletch couldn’t see her. Franky took a deep, steadying breath and gave Bridget a quick wink before pushing back and stepping to the side, in full view.

“Hey Fletch,” she called out casually, running a hand through her hair, “you need me for somethin’ or just havin’ a perv?”

Fletch frowned and looked around.

“What were you doing over there?”

Franky pointed at herself, an innocent _“me?”_ gesture.

“Yeah, you,” Fletch rolled his eyes.

“Was just taking a break from the pool,” Franky smiled, “didn’t realise I needed permission from Production.”

_“Franky,”_ Bridget hissed, raising her eyebrows, “ _don’t provoke.”_

“ _I’ve got this Gidge, trust me,”_ Franky whispered back through her smile, eyes still on Fletch.

Fletch was none the wiser of the muted conversation but still looked at her suspiciously. He looked over at the pillar, eyes narrowed, and Franky felt her heart leap up to her throat as the seconds went by. Finally-

“We want some footage of post-elimination so I need you in the living room.”

Franky exhaled in relief.

“Yessir,” she saluted with a cheeky grin, and Fletch just shook his head and walked back inside the mansion.

“Fuck,” Bridget sighed, her head falling back against the pillar as she released a shaky breath.

“It’s what I had planned,” Franky murmured, stepping back in front of Bridget and stealing another slow kiss, “but I’ve gotta get in there before Fletch really gets suss.”

“Last thing we need is for you to fall at the last hurdle,” Bridget pulled her in for another kiss, followed by another, before gently nudging her away, “you got this, okay?”

“I know,” Franky rested her forehead against Bridget’s for a moment, sighing.

“I’ll be watching,” Bridget reassured her with a grin, cupping Franky’s cheeks gently and caressing her skin with her thumbs.

“I’ll be sure to put on a show,” Franky smiled.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N
> 
> As always, thank you for reading :D
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome, but more importantly I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> \- CB


End file.
